Love's Harvest (A Salmon Run Novel Book 1)

by Gwen Overland

  Julia’s stomach lurched and her face grew hot. Yet, before she could even think how to respond, Gayle hung up.

  Julia had known for some time James wanted to develop the land where the winery and vineyard stood so as to make more money for himself and his family. Yet, not for one minute did she ever think he was capable of breaking the law to do so.

  Feeling somewhat panicked, she decided even though it was a bit early, she needed call Alicia and get her take on things. She didn’t want to have James arrested either, but she most certainly didn’t want to lose the winery, especially in such a clandestine way.

  She thought she needed to throw up but instead hurried to her office and closed the door. It took several attempts and two voicemail messages before she finally was able to get Alicia on the line.

  “Hello?” said a foggy voice.

  “I’m sorry to call so early, Alicia. It’s me, Julia. I just now heard James may’ve doctored the deed in his favor. I’m at a loss as to what to do.”

  “Julia? Oh my God! What time is it, anyway?”

  “Almost six.” Actually it was much closer to five thirty, but Julia didn’t want to make things any worse than what they were.

  “Okay, all right.” Alicia blew her nose and cleared her voice. “I’m sitting up now. What’s this about James?”

  Julia worked at keeping her voice from betraying her fears. “Gayle called me minutes ago. She thinks James altered the property ownership document, and I don’t have another copy but what was kept in the safe in James’s office. Criminy, what am I going to do?”

  “I’d arrest his butt, if I were you!” Alicia was anything if not direct.

  “I can’t do that, Alicia. Look what it could do to Gayle and the kids. Ah, shoot! Shoot!” Julia had much stronger words in mind but didn’t want her sister to hear how truly desperate she was.

  “Okay, listen up. I think I know what needs to be done.” Julia listened as Alicia rearranged her covers and sat up in bed.

  “There has got to be copy of the deed on file with the county tax office. Get them to give you a copy so you and Barbara can compare the two when he presents you with his. He’ll probably make up some kind of story like he didn’t know how his got changed but don’t back down. That winery’s yours. Robert wanted you to have it. To make something better out of it even more than what it’d been when he was in charge.”

  “You think I can get a copy of that deed before Friday morning? I mean, it may be the only ammunition I have against him taking over the property.”

  Alicia raised her voice and spoke as professionally as she was able. “Dammit! The winery’s yours, Julia. Get a copy of the deed, even if you have to get Barbara to help you. Capiche?”

  Julia let out a soft chuckle. God, she loved her sister’s spirit! “Yes, I understand. Thanks so much, Alicia. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

  Alicia joined her in laughter. “Well, never mind about that. Your bill’s in the mail as we speak. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Uncle James is being such a butt!”

  Julia could hardly keep herself together. “Or worse! At least Gayle has some sense. Look, I better get a hold of Barbara. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Okay, sis. Love you!”

  “Love you, too, Alicia! Bye-bye.”

  Julia stared at the wall across from her desk. Photographed pictures of the history of the Nooksack Valley Winery and Vineyard decorated the office. Some in color and several dated earlier in black and white.

  This little plot of land held a history not only of her late husband’s family, but of the many people who over the years either worked the land or merely came as visitors to see where and how their favorite wines were transformed from grape to bottle. At once Julia was struck by how important a place the winery held in the history of Salmon Run.

  Torn as to whether to call Barbara or not caused Julia’s stomach to once again turn over. She promised Gayle she’d do her best not to have James arrested. However, he had broken the law and by doing so put the winery in risk of being taken over by those who wanted to see it come to an untimely end.

  Feeling as though she’d once again been waxed into a corner, Julia reasoned that she but one choice—to seek help outside her family, especially since it was her very family who seemed determined to see her fail. The first rays of the morning sun filtered into her office as she picked up the phone to dial the sheriff’s office.

  “Whatcom County Sheriff Department, Abigail van Buskirk speaking.” Abigail was the daughter of Barbara’s minister, Arjan van Buskirk, at the well-attended New Dutch Reformed Church in Salmon Run.

  “Hey, Abbie. This is Julia Reynolds. Is Barbara in?”

  “Oh, hi Julia. How are you doing?”

  “Well, thank you Abbie. And yourself?”

  “Pretty good. Mom needs quite a bit more care now, but Dad and Jacob are taking up the slack while I answer the phones here for Barb. The Parkinson’s diagnosis knocked all of us for a loop, but at least now we know what’s been going on with Mom these last few years.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Abby. Your mom’s one of my favorite people.” Unlike most of the citizens of Salmon Run, Hennie was one of the few who played the piano with what Julia considered a superb technique and sense of musicianship.

  Not only did Julia enjoy her company as a fellow pianist, but Hennie had always gone out of her way to be extra kind to her, which couldn’t be said for everyone in Salmon Run. After all, Julia was a foreigner, transplanted from the San Francisco Bay area when she married Robert.

  Julia heard Abigail take in a deep breath. “Thanks, Julia. That means so much to me and my family.”

  Julia was amazed by the strength she heard in the woman’s voice. “Hold tight while I get Barb on the phone.”

  During the silence Julia thought about Robert’s father and his own struggle with Alzheimer’s. It seemed to her as if Harold “Buck” Reynolds was sinking rapidly with each passing day into the dark void of forgetfulness.

  Most days he thought he still worked at the winery. Whenever she visited the care facility, Buck confused her with Mavis, his deceased wife. According to Robert, his father had always been somewhat forgetful, which over the years had been the impetus for many family jokes and stories about his inability to remember even the most basic of things. Like where he parked his car, or the names of his children.

  He’d go through the entire list of family members before finally settling on the phrase “whoever you are” and leave it at that. Buck and his family had easily laughed at his infirmity, but not anymore.

  Buck was forever lost in a world where he no longer could reach anyone and no one could reach him. Ironically, it now seemed as though Hennie von Buskirk was likewise disappearing from a world she’d previously known.

  Julia’s reverie was at last interrupted by Barbara’s voice on her phone. “Sheriff van Persie speaking.”

  Julia smiled. “Good morning, Sheriff van Persie. This is Mrs. Reynolds speaking. I wondered if you might have a few minutes to give me some advice.”

  “Now Julia,” Barb said conspiratorially, “you know I know that you know I have to sound somewhat professional, despite my stellar track record as a public servant. How else will I get people to do what I tell them?”

  Barb’s humor and sarcasm were infectious. “How indeed, Sheriff!”

  “So what do I owe this early morning phone call to? Having trouble finding the coffee pot, or the dish soap, or the keys to your Mercedes?”

  Julia tried not to laugh. “Now, don’t be surly, you. I simply called because I need to speak about something which hasn’t left my brain since early this morning, and I don’t know who else to call.”

  Barbara’s voice immediately took on a warmth and sweetness reminiscent of the afternoon she spent with Julia at
the funeral service.

  “You know you can call me anytime about anything that’s on your heart and mind, Julia. I may be the sheriff of this crazy and diverse county, but I’m also your friend. You know that!”

  “I do know that. Thanks, Barb,” Julia answered. She hoped her next few words would hide all she was unwilling to convey.

  She desperately needed information about the property deed but didn’t want to get James in trouble if it was at all possible. After all, he was family, and Gayle was the first friend she made when she moved to the area.

  “The reason why I called is because it dawned on me that I don’t have my own copy of the deed for the vineyard and winery. I know James has one, but how do I get one of my own?”

  Silence filled the moment, causing Julia to have second thoughts about asking for Barb’s help. She hated to deceive a friend, but sometimes family simply had to come first.

  “Is this about James’s threats concerning Friday? Because if it is, you needn’t worry. My deputies and I will be there to make sure you and your workers come to no harm. You hear me?”

  Julia was taken aback by the ferocity of Barbara’s response. “I know. It’s only that I think under the circumstances I should have the deed in my own hands when and if he shows up. Sometimes I simply don’t trust the guy, you know what I mean?”

  Julia felt Barbara didn’t trust James as far as she could throw him either, but for now Julia didn’t want to spill the beans regarding Gayle’s morning phone call.

  “Yes, I know exactly what you mean.” Barbara stood up and began to pace the floor, as she always did when strategizing a plan to assist her constituents.

  “Look, let me check with Kaliope Papadakos at the County Property Assessment office. I’m sure a copy of the deed is on file. It’s going to kill me to ask that old crankster for a favor, but I’ll get her to make me a copy and bring it out to you later this morning. Will that work?”

  “Thanks, Barb. I appreciate everything you do for me. You’re a good friend.”

  “You’re welcome, Julia. I feel the same way about you.”

  “And you’re not too bad of a sheriff either,” Julia teased.

  Barbara joined her. “Now don’t you get smart with me, Miss Fancy Pants, or I’ll haul you down here and book you for harassing a police officer.”

  “Silly you!” Julia smiled as she reached for her lukewarm coffee and took a sip. “See you later, Barb.”

  As soon as Julia hung up, she strolled over to the little coffee bar near the retail store and washed out her cup. She put on a fresh pot of coffee, knowing full well it was going to take more than one or two cups of caffeine to get her through this day.

  ~ ~ ~

  Once Gayle got up to make her phone call, she found she was far too upset to go back to bed. Instead she went into the kitchen to make her usual morning pot of white tea.

  As she sat at the kitchen island waiting for her tea to steep, Gayle stared out the window at the first streaks of dawn. She thought about her marriage, her children, all the work she put into being the kind of wife she knew James desired, and the kind of the mother the children begged for.

  Suddenly, she felt empty inside. Had all her efforts proven themselves for naught? Was this ultimately why she wanted to marry and have children—to lose herself in each one of their needs and demands?

  Lately it seemed to her that she and James were merely going through the motions of being married—that their relationship was turning into a kind of business proposition rather than a meeting of true hearts and minds. No matter how much James made as a lawyer, it never was enough.

  On top of that, the kids had become so used to getting everything they desired, they began to expect the newest and the best technology had to offer with no questions asked. If they didn’t get the newest tablet, or laptop, or cell phone, then they made sure Gayle was aware of their disappointment by making her the ogre.

  Never in her born days had Gayle ever imagined that her life would be reduced to the almighty dollar, the proverbial bottom line. Even her focus of late had been less on the joys of friendship and self-contentment and more on making sure she got whatever was coming to her, no matter how it affected her relationships with others—and that included her family. Not once did she ever consider taking more than what she felt she was owed. Never ever did she even for a brief second entertain the idea of breaking the law.

  Soon she heard the sounds of someone upstairs getting out of bed and heading toward the shower. Gayle knew it probably wasn’t her children—Jimmy, a know-it-all boy of thirteen and Bobbie, a skinny little girl of ten. After all, it was summer. These days were custom-made for sleeping in, playing outdoors all day until dusk, and just plain goofing around.

  No, the noise came from James. Of all things, he was singing in the shower. James never sang in the shower, Gayle noted, and then said sarcastically to herself, “I guess breaking the law and stealing from your brother’s wife constitutes a reason to sing for joy, eh Mr. Reynolds?”

  She knew the best thing for her and her family was to keep silent regarding James’s activities, but the madder she got, the more she felt James would be lucky if he could even keep his marriage together after she was done giving him a piece of her mind. Marriage was built on trust, Gayle believed, and now she realized she could never again trust James to do what was right toward Julia and the memory of his brother, let alone toward her and the children.

  Gayle felt as if a huge boulder lodged in her gut. This wasn’t how she envisioned her life would turn out to be, but this situation with James was intolerable. How she could go from loving someone with all her heart to absolutely detesting his very presence was startling to her. Yet this was where she was at the moment. Unsure how she was going to handle the next few minutes put her mind into a tailspin.

  Financially she knew she and the children would be fine, should she and James separate. In fact, she wasn’t even sure the kids would even notice, what with James working away from home all hours of the day and night and them with their heads in their cell phones, ear phones, and computer games.

  What she did know was what she was feeling was unbearable. Something needed to be done and it needed to be done quickly.

  While mulling these things in her mind, Gayle heard James bound down the stairs, humming one of his favorite nonsensical tunes. She prayed when he came into the kitchen he’d head straight for the refrigerator and not try to kiss her. Gayle wasn’t sure she could handle any attempt at affection on his part this morning.

  “Good morning,” he chirped as he sailed over toward the Keurig machine. “And how’s my dear wife this bright and beautiful morning?”

  Gayle lifted her head from staring at her tea. “I want a divorce,” she announced without skipping a beat.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sheriff van Persie sensed something was up with Julia. For some reason, her friend wasn’t telling her everything she knew. This second-sense wasn’t unusual for Barb. Many of her friends treated her differently since she was voted in as sheriff. Yet Julia was usually more forthcoming than she was today.

  Barbara suspected this must have something to do with James’s threats from the day before. Yet, why a copy of the deed, unless James was trying to disprove Julia’s right of ownership for some reason?

  A million thoughts ran through her head, including the one which told her obtaining a copy of the deed wasn’t going to be as easy as she made out. Kaliope Papadakos was a force of nature and not one to do a person a favor unless she thought of it first.

  It was now a few minutes after eight, time for Barbara to valiantly go forth and confront that dragon of a woman, all for a measly Xerox copy of the deed to the Nooksack Valley Winery and Vineyard. She knew Kaliope Papadakos came to work exactly fifteen minutes early every single day of her Monday through Friday work week. Sh
e was organized, punctual, and dedicated to her position at the property tax assessment office of Whatcom County.

  After thirty years in real estate as a broker, and a successful one at that, Ms. Papadakos decided to slow down a bit and work a “regular” job with steady hours and benefits. That way she could do her real estate business on the side simply for fun and what she called “funny money.”

  She’d no children, and for as many years as she lived in the county, no one suspected she’d ever been married. There were rumors, of course, that she’d waited years for a certain man to propose. But, he never did, leaving her to grieve all these years for what might’ve been.

  Yet her grief didn’t take on the usual characteristics of sadness or depression, but rather of constant work and a brittleness which often appeared as rudeness. Downright meanness, to be exact. Whatever the reasons for Kaliope’s behavior, Barbara had to ask of her this favor. As soon as she strode into the woman’s office, however, Barb could tell things were not going to go her way.

  ~ ~ ~

  It’d be awhile before the winery opened for the public, so Julia decided to play one of her favorite CDs. Ravel’s music always calmed her nerves and kept her focused on what was at hand. This morning she popped into the machine his Concerto in G with Leonard Slatkin and the St. Louis Symphonic Orchestra featuring Alicia de Larrocha at the piano.

  The recording was over twenty years old. Nonetheless one of Julia’s favorites. She was especially fond of the Andalusian-influenced second movement with its haunting melodies against a rhythmic counterpoint. No one in her opinion could play it better than Señora de Larrocha.

  With her second or third cup of coffee in her hand (who was counting anyway?), Julia returned to her office only to find three stone-faced individuals reverently standing shoulder to shoulder like statuary.